


Between Us

by real__kazekage



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Hair Brushing, Sweet, sweet feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26463016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/real__kazekage/pseuds/real__kazekage
Summary: Sten and Azura Amell have a bonding moment.
Relationships: Female Amell/Sten (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 12





	Between Us

The fire in front of Azura Amell crackled as she ran her fingers through her long raven colored locks. Alistair was busy playing with Knight like a boy finding a puppy for the first time. Leliana and Wynne were discussing in a whisper to the side. Zevran and Oghren were laughing loudly over a bottle of aged whiskey. As usual Moriggan was still by herself in the shadows, far away from the others, like the lone wolf she always presents herself to be. 

Azura unbraided her long hair and let the knotted hair fall over her shoulder. Marker, having long hair is a blessing and a curse. She loves feeling the wind blow through her hair, but when it becomes matted it is a nightmare. She picked up a golden colored brush to her side and gently ran through the brush through her locks. The brush gilded through her hair for a moment and then became knotted. A groan escaped her lips and she slowly tried to untangle her long hair. At times like this she does miss The Circle. The girls in her dorm would always braid her hair because they loved how shinny and soft it was compared to theirs. Some swore she must be a foreigner, not of Ferelden, because her hair felt so different than theirs. In fact, Azura has never braided her own hair. It is truly embarrassing to admit since most young women know this skill from their mothers. This was the same braid she has wore for nearly a month. But now it is becoming unbearable and itchy in her scalp.  


Azura kept trying to untangle her hair but it was pulling on her scalp causing her to groan in pain. Then, out of desperation, she ran the brush through the wad of knots only to let out a yelp of pain from the sensitization. 

“ **Parshaara”,** Sten’s voice boomed through the camp and she nearly jumped out of her skin. He marched over to her and she gripped the brush in her hands. Marker looked so annoyed, but she wasn’t doing anything except trying to brush her hair!

He grabbed the brush out of her grip, much to her annoyance, and threw it forward over the fire.  


“Sten!?” She watched the brush disappear into the bushes in front of her. That was her only brush! Her brows furrowed into her forehead, “Why did you do that?”

“You weren’t using it,” he simply said which only confused her because she was using it! Before she could answer he grabbed her unruly hair in his large hand. Honestly, if he wanted to rip her hair out he easily could with his strength and the image of her scalp falling across the camp did appear in her mind. Nasty image.  


However, his grip was not threatening, quite the opposite. He slowly pulled apart the messy knots and she groaned from the slight pain. He ignored her groans that escaped her as he pulled apart her hair with such ease. He could be gentle when he wanted to be. 

“Why are you helping me?” She questioned as her hands gripped her robes trying to ignore the pain in the roots of her hair.

“You weren’t doing it correctly,” he spoke simply as he pushed her strands of hair over her shoulder. 

Azura watched as strand by strand of her hair fell over her shoulders. He was right, she wasn’t doing it right. But that was how the older girls helped her with her hair before, but it was always extremely painful. Yet, Sten was only using her fingers and the pain was almost non-existent. 

“Sten,” her voice was low, hoping not to ruin his concentration. “Will you braid my hair?”

He paused his motion and gazed down at her. “Why?”

A flush appeared on her features. Why indeed. Marker, she is embarrassed to say it in front of him and everyone else in ear shot. She pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear as she stared at her robe. 

“I never learned how,” she mumbled. “I always had an older girl do it for me, and your hair is always so nicely braided.” 

He did not move and the flush covered her entire face. Thank the Marker her back is turned to him so he can’t see how embarrassed she is at this moment. Then, she felt him untangle her hair once again. 

“I will,” he finally said and she let out a sigh of relief. 

They sat in silence as his large fingers untangled her knots. He was so skilled because there was no pulling on her scalp. Honestly, it was a little relaxing. Her eyelids started to drop but she fought back to stay awake. Then, he gently pulled her long hair toward him and started to braid. He worked so quickly that even in the corner of her eye she couldn't figure out how he did it. He tied the end together with the strands of her loose hair and let the long braid fall over her shoulder. 

Azura turned her head and looked up at him with a soft smile. "Thank you."

He stood up and without a word returned to the edge of the camp.

* * *

They had a spent most of their day in Denerim, mostly shopping and gathering supplies. Honestly, it was nice to be in a kingdom like Denerim as opposed to the open plains of Ferelden. Azura had spent most of her entire life in a tower so to see people living their everyday life was fascinating to say the least. Sten and Alistair had to nearly pull her away from the vendors or lose all their coins they had gathered in their journey. She had spent most of her coin on new robes from the finest tailors in Oralis. Marker, they were so soft against her fingers and looked gorgeous on her figure. How could she resist?  


Yet, they found themselves at their campsite as usual for the night. However, this time Sten and Azura were together as he unbraided her hair to create a new braid. This time was was slower than before, but as careful as always. They both stood as he worked on the long braid. She wanted to sit, but was worried about ruining her new robe. He released the braid and let her long raven locks fall down her back. His large fingers started to unknot some of her hair, but he never caused any tension on her scalp.

"Do you like my hair down?" She questioned as she felt his large fingers run through her raven locks.

“Impractical,” he mumbled.

She raised a brow as his fingers glided through her silky hair. "That isn’t what I asked.”

“I know,” he let out a groan and motioned for her to sit in front of him. At first, she did not want to because the dirt would ruin her beautiful robe. Sten must have noticed the worry in her eyes because he removed a blanket from the log near the fire and placed it front of him. She only smiled at the gesture and sat down in front of him. She scooted closer to him till her back was against his chest. He gently pushed her forward so her shoulders weren't leaning against his chest. At first she was going to joke saying he didn't want her too close but then she realized he needed to actually see hair hair to braid it.  


“So, answer my question. Do you like it when I have my hair down?” she actually wanted to know, because she has rarely ever let her hair flow freely. Also, she is just curious to what he thinks since he is also so difficult to read.  


“Your hair is,” he paused his fingers in her hair as if to study the texture of it, “too messy to wear down.”

Well, he does have a point. Still it wasn't the answer she wanted, but it is better than nothing. The pair sat in silence as he slowly braided her hair. Azura noticed Zevran watching them from across the fire and a small smirk grew on his lips. Oh no. She knows that look. That impish expression.  


“I do not mean to intrude on your bonding session,” Zevran walked over to the pair. The fire casting a shadow on his tanned features but she could still see the smirk present on his lips. Sten continued braiding her hair as if he didn’t notice the elf. “But I believe I can do a better job.”

“Oh,” Azura kept her attention on Zevran but could feel Sten’s fingers slowing down. It would seem ridiculous to make Sten stop just so Zevran could have his way. “But I already have Sten working on my hair.” Then she felt the hypothesis motion of his braiding once more. 

“Yes I can see that,” Zevran gazed at the large qunari. “But I can do it for you tomorrow morning.”

She blinked up at Zevran. Why does he want to braid her hair all of a sudden? He has never offered before. “I suppose that is ok-OUCH” she nearly screamed when Sten pulled harsly on her long braid. One of her hands rubbed the top of her head and a frown grew on her pink lips. She glared behind her shoulder to him but he did not make eye contact with her. 

“Let’s talk about that tomorrow Zevran,” she spoke up to the elf who only glared over to Sten, but he nodded in response. Zevran walked away from the pair and the tension around them only grew like a cloud. Her free hand moved back to her side once the burning sensation disappeared from her scalp. 

“ **I** braid your hair,” Sten finally spoke to her but his voice was strained more than usual. She kept her gaze to the fire with confusion written on her pale features. Then she rose a brow and gazed slightly behind her. Marker, is he jealous? That cannot be possible. Sten barely shows any emotions let alone jealously. Honestly, can a Qunari even feel jealously? It is a interesting concept that she would love to poke at, but at the moment, she is just confused.  


“Why can’t Zevran do it tomorrow morning?” She questioned as she gazed behind her shoulder trying to make eye contact with him. He never looked at her. He only kept his gaze on her hair.  


He was silent as he braided her long raven locks. “Because I braid your hair.”

Azura only stared at him but he refused to make eye contact with her. It was exhausting trying to read this qunari. Are they all like this? She slowly returned her gaze toward the fire. Are all qunari this difficult to understand? Why can’t he just say what is on his mind without some puzzle to solve? Perhaps that is how he was raised, especially being under the Qun. Honestly, she doesn’t understand the Qun and doesn’t want to either. It seems so rigid and almost inhumane. He doesn't even have a name, just a title. Yet, he never questions his role nor his life. He is a simple qunari. He likes to hit things and take orders. Yet, there is still something else about him. Despite his loyalty to the Qun she has made him question much such as why she is even fighting. Women in the Qun aren't soldiers, yet she exists. So, is he questioning his role or is it all in her mind?  


Suddenly the rationalization of the situation fell on her. The fire’s embers sparked in front of them. “And that is only between us?” her voice was low, fearful of his response. 

Sten paused the motion of the braid for a moment, and she feared she read the situation wrong: wouldn’t be the first time. 

“Exactly,” he breathed down to her and she smiled softly to herself. Ah, so that is it. 

“I understand.” her voice was low and kept her gaze to the fire. If this is how he expresses his affection for her then so be it. Honestly, she will take anything since he is usually so cold to her. No, not cold. He isn't cold. He is just Sten and that is okay. His braided always made her feel so relaxed to the point of drowsiness. A yawn escaped her lips but her hand tried to cover it away. Her eyelids felt heavy and they slowly started to drop down. Her gaze stayed on the fire in front of her as he gently braided her hair.  


She started to drift off to sleep until she felt her hair fall back over her shoulder. He had braided her hair into three sections into a big braid. She let her fingers gently touch the braid and a small smile grew on her lips. She rested her head against his chest and felt him inhale quickly, but he did not push her away. Exhaustion rushed through her body as she closed her eyes and her body relaxed against his. The warmth of the fire only added to her exhaustion as she slowly started to drift to sleep.  


* * *

“Are you ready?” she questioned Sten, keeping her white colored hues toward the burning mass of Denerim. The archdemon flew above them in the orange colored sky. People were running and screaming at the sight: the end of the world. But not today. The world won't end today as long as she is alive. She is not ready to die. The Blight will end today.   


Sten was behind her and quickly braiding her hair in his large fingers. Zevran was sharpening his blades while Oghren held his massive axe in one hand staring at the archdemon. The size of the creature did frighten her, but she must kill it. She must kill it so she can live her life and see the world. This is the only way.  


“At your side,” he paused and gently laid her braid over her shoulder. The thick braid laid against her blue cotton mage robe. His massive hand rested on her shoulder as he walked beside her. “I am always ready.”


End file.
